Resting Murder Face
by mountainrivergirl
Summary: "Is it just me, or does Flynn look extra murderous today?" Rufus mutters to Jiya. "Yeah, the scruff does make him look more wicked. It turns his resting murder face into more, um, active murder face." In which Flynn needs a shave. Rufus is disturbed by the combo of his resting murder face and stubble. Lucy has a much more positive opinion.


"Is it just me, or does Flynn look extra murderous today?" Rufus mutters to Jiya.

In what has become a non-mission day ritual of sorts, Jiya, Rufus, Lucy, and Flynn have all been spending a quiet morning in the safe house living room. Jiya and Flynn usually split the paper as Rufus plays video games or messes around on his phone and Lucy reads at least a chapter of history a day, double-checking for any new, er, old developments. Wyatt occasionally joins in, but he tends to be more restless in the morning, with a need to run it off, or so he says.

Today, though, Lucy's mostly been shooting glances at Flynn, who is currently doing the crossword, which means there's a lot of staring off in thought and running a hand across the three-day stubble on his jaw. She hasn't turned a page in the past ten minutes, and she's starting to feel personally attacked by how distracting it is when he _looks_ like that.

Jiya snorts a laugh and answers him at regular volume. "Yeah, the scruff does make him look more wicked. It turns his resting murder face into more, um, _active_ murder face."

Lucy can't help but giggle at that, and Flynn, from his place next to her on the couch, finally raises his head to look quizzically first at her and then at Jiya.

" _What_ are you talking about?"

"You know, like resting bitch face, only with murder," Jiya supplies cheerfully, and Lucy feels Flynn turn his "the hell?" face toward her as he plops the newspaper onto the coffee table.

"Resting bitch face is when somebody's thoughtful face looks angry. When you stare off into space, sometimes you look like you're plotting a murder, so: resting murder face." She patiently explains, still wanting to laugh at his raised eyebrows. "You tend to particularly aim it in Wyatt's direction."

"That _is_ active murder face," he whispers sideways so only she can hear, and she tries to glare at him but it can't be convincing, not while the corners of her mouth are turning up. Lucy nudges him in the side with her elbow and he gets lost in thought for a moment.

"Is that why you always think I'm going to kill you?" Flynn turns to Rufus, whose eyes go wide. The pilot clearly hadn't bargained on this becoming a conversation.

"I…I mean, that and…the fact that you don't deny it when you joke about it, and that you tried like, a lot," Rufus stammers and Lucy feels Flynn deflate next to her. She bites her lip, trying to avoid interrupting them to help the awkwardness along. It probably needs to be talked out but she's not at all confident that they will ever do it.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Rufus," Flynn says lowly and Lucy wonders if the others can hear the self-directed anger as clearly as she can. She doubts it, doubts they will recognize it for the apology he's trying to have it be, and she's as surprised as Rufus when the rest of his words come tumbling out. "I…I'm sorry about before. We're on the same team now, and I'll do everything I can to keep the whole team safe."

Lucy's absurdly proud of him at this and of Rufus as he takes it in, decides it is in fact a legitimate apology, and says "Alright, man." Then the two men do that weird nodding/shrugging thing guys do that Lucy takes to mean "bygones".

She raises her eyes to Jiya's. Jiya looks back with the universal "MEN, amiright?" look and Lucy rolls her own eyes, but neither of them can keep from smiling.

Turning back to her book in the quiet that follows, Lucy assumes the subject is closed. Flynn isn't letting it go, however.

"So, if I shave, you'll all sleep more soundly at night?"

"NO!" Lucy blurts out and immediately flushes. She's been quite enjoying his stubble herself and isn't keen to see it gone yet. Although it might be better for her hormonal equilibrium to have it gone, she'd like to get a chance to appreciate it for a little longer first.

"Maybe you should just think nicer thoughts instead," Jiya helpfully chimes in, and Lucy's grateful enough for the interruption to ignore the twitch of her friend's lips as she shoots her a knowing side-eyed glance.

"I'm not thinking about killing anyone. Not usually."

"See, it's shit like that that makes you seem like a psychopath," Rufus shakes his head.

"Not anyone on the team. _You_ know I'm not thinking about killing you when I look at you, right?" Flynn, genuinely concerned, asks Lucy who shakes her head before Rufus interrupts with a scoff.

"Like you ever do it to Lucy."

Lucy's face blushes as, instead of denying this, Flynn looks at her more carefully to make sure this is the case. She opens her mouth without saying anything, aiming for nonchalant confirmation and hoping she achieves it as he bobs his head in relief.

"I should shave before the next mission, blend in more, hmm?" He turns back to Jiya and Rufus, and Lucy chuckles silently at the thought of him caring so much about his looks. As if he needs to.

"I mean, should is a bit strong, but your face does look even more intimidating like that," Jiya answers diplomatically.

What it looks is HOT, Lucy argues in her head. It takes her a moment to realize how silent the room has gone, and she stills and cringes when she feels the combined stares of the other three as mortification rushes over her in a scalding wave.

Deciding the safest option is Jiya, she squints in her direction. "I said that out loud, didn't I," she whispers, not even really asking, lifting her hands to cover her flushed cheeks.

The other woman purses her lips to fight back a smile as she nods. "Come on, Rufus, we've got to uh…go work on that thing…for Mason."

Lucy refuses to look at Rufus, ignoring his frantic gestures, as Jiya tugs him from the room. She buries her face in her hands as the two engineers take off, torn between relief that fewer people are there to witness her embarrassment and annoyance at them for abandoning her. She spends a solid minute hoping that Flynn will disappear and leave her there to die, but no such luck. Her heartbeat is swishing in her ears as she finally dares to peek one eye open.

At least he isn't smirking at her, ready to pick on her, but the look of delighted, tender surprise that he gives her instead scares her more.

"It's okay, Lucy. You can come out. I won't tease you."

"You won't?" She asks dumbly, still shocked at the turn her morning has taken. All because, even now, she can't stop looking at his _stupid_ face, the way the dark whiskers accentuate the sharp plains of his cheeks and chin and make his dimples more pronounced. Maybe she should sit on her hands, because her fingers are itching to touch, and her self-control is clearly iffy at the moment.

Flynn shakes his head with a wry smile. "It would be…the height of hypocrisy for me to give you a hard time for occasionally finding me attractive."

As his meaning hits her, she feels the electricity between them crackle. She's known for some time that he thinks she "looks good", that she impresses him. It's often felt to her, though, like the way he might admire a priceless artifact on a pedestal, from afar, even as he's gotten close to her as a friend. But his words and his look are telling her he'd rather admire her while holding her in his hands (or preferably, admire her _with_ his hands), and her stomach swoops with a thrill of excitement. He is watching her with eyes that are slightly glazed as he does that sinful thing with his tongue and she half-hopes he is going to kiss her, half-fears that he will.

Because yes, she finds Flynn _very_ attractive, and yes, the chemistry between them is so heated it nearly scorches, but they also have deep friendship and partnership and _caring_ , and she isn't willing to give up the latter group to chase the former. If they could have both, though, the friendship and the heat? If it could work? Oh, it could be beautiful. Is she willing to risk it, risk losing this precious thing that they already have? She's not sure.

Finally he takes pity on her by looking away, or so she thinks until she watches him draw in a shaky breath and blow it out slowly. Lucy takes a tiny bit of pleasure in knowing that at least she is not the only one off-kilter. Clearing his throat, he licks his lips nervously, making her resolve falter even more. He stares at his knees, as his courage is apparently reserved for what he is about to say and there is none to be spared on seeing her reaction.

"I won't say anything else about it. But if…if _you_ ever want to, uh, discuss it, you know where to find me."

Having had his say, Flynn puts his hands on his knees, ready to stand up. He freezes when she puts a hand on his arm. Lucy really can't help herself, not with how much she's wanted to all day and now with how gentle and open he's being with her, and she lightly traces her fingers down his cheek. The light beard is scratchy, but she can feel his soft skin beneath it, and she bites her lip. His breath catching, he leans into her touch slightly and closes his eyes. When they open to look into hers, it is her turn to gasp as she sees they are darker than she has ever seen them. He usually hides it, but this time he lets her see the struggle, how hard he is fighting not to reach for her, and she comes very close to giving in herself. But just…not yet. She has some thinking to do, some decisions to make.

Grabbing her now-lukewarm tea and her book, she stands. "I'm just…going to uh…go hide in my room now from Jiya and Rufus and well...everyone."

He breathes out an amused huff and she can feel him watching her as she goes. She turns back when she reaches the doorway to see him running his knuckles absentmindedly across the cheek she had stroked. "Oh, and…"

"Hmm?"

"Keep it, for a day or two. Please?" She gestures to her own chin and cheeks to clarify. "If we have to be stuck here, it's nice to have something pretty to look at."

Flynn lets out a shocked chuckle at that and passes his hand over his eyes in embarrassment (he is definitely blushing now), before getting hold of himself and giving her a single nod. "If you want." Then, just as she is congratulating herself on gaining back the upper hand, he _winks_ at her.

She leaves before she can jump on him.

It might be easier, she thinks, if he did aim his resting murder face at her. Because him showing his actual feelings on his face, flirting and winking at her? It feels much more dangerous.


End file.
